Over the years I have made hundreds of prayer beads for people, but I’ve only ever made two sets for myself.
The first is a green jade set dedicated to Brighid with a small wooden Brighid’s cross from Ireland. The second is a set with dramatic rutilated quartz beads, white and clear quartz with long thin needles of jet black crisscrossing the bead. This set is dedicated to the Cailleach, the old woman of the land I live on. The pendant is the tip of an antler I was gifted while visiting the Shrine of the Cailleach. You can read that story via the link at the bottom of the page.
Each morning when my fingers begin their journey around these prayer beads the first set of beads after the pendant is three round, silver beads, which are satisfyingly weighty. These are the step beads and whatever state of mind I find myself in they are a wonderful invitation to take three steps into sacred space.
This might be a pause of three breaths, or imagining one or more sacred sites where my feet might have walked on holy ground. More often than not, I recall my visit to Tigh nam Bodach, which translates from Gaelic as the House of the Old Man and is also known as the Cailleach’s Shrine.
The Shrine of the Cailleach, Glen Cailleach, Perthshire, Scotland
The little glen that houses the shrine comes to mind and the fast-flowing waters of Allt Cailleach (stream of the Cailleach) which rushes down the side of the remote glen. In myths, deer are referred to as the Cailleach’s fairy cattle, and you’ll find many deer in the neighbouring Glen Lyon – due to the landowners who encourage them to stay close by feeding them, their numbers, assuring a good selection when they take the wealthy visitors off to shoot deer for an afternoon of sporting entertainment.
After the step beads are another set of three beads, relating to birth, life, and death. The first speaks to being born into this world, then your fingers will feel the different pointed texture of the mystery bead, generally a star-shaped quartz bead, which is there to acknowledge the great mystery of life, and the divine spark that is present in all living things (from rocks to mountains, comic nebulae to worms, trees, and humans).
The bead after the mystery bead is the death bead, to acknowledge with birth comes death, something none of us can escape. Set slightly outside this run of beads is the bead that represents our life and free will, for it is our choice of what we engage with in life and what we carry in our hearts. How we engage with the world and whether we engage with the divine spark within and around us.
What does it mean when prayer beads break, varying traditions have different insights – from rebirth to an ending, and to some a sign to repair your beads. And this is exactly what happened to my set around the summer solstice. Of all the hundreds of sets I’ve made I only experienced one person who reported her set breaking, this happened as she held the beads in her hands at the bedside of a beloved, the silk thread breaking at the same time her beloved died.
My beads broke one day just as I touched them. They weren’t being stretched or taught – the silk cord seemed to just disintegrate. As I was due to take a retreat the next week, I ordered some black silk thread and brought them with me.
The Loch of the Big Women
I felt drawn to bring the beads with me as we headed up to one of the highest points of the island, Loch Nam Ban Mora, the Loch of the Big Woman, on this isle, Eilean Nam Ban Mora – the Island of the Big Women.
Loch Eilean Nam Ban Mora (Loch of the Big Women), heather. Looking over to the Sgurr
It was a warm day with a strong breeze and each of the women found their own spot to sit by and around the loch. I was cooried (a Scots word meaning to crouch in, or nestle) in among the heather, the photo above looks south to the great rock feature of the Sgurr (a Gaelic word for jagged peak).
Antler and prayer beads
Rutilated quartz beads, silver spiral threshold beads, and silver step beads – washed in the loch waters
While the beads are hard stone and not woven cloth, there was still a deep symbolism in washing them in the waters of the loch. An island whose name and loch are named after mythical big women. No one can really pinpoint who the ese big women were – but I like to think of big as meaning looked up to, and respected. Throughout the western isles are stories of big women – such as Scathatch on the neighbouring isle of Skye.
This washing was a purification ritual, a ritual of renewal, for both the beads and myself. I am reminded of the task set by Baba Yaga in which Vasalisa is required to wash Baba Yaga’s clothes:
‘To wash something is a timeless purification ritual. It not only means to purify, it also means – like baptism from the latin baptiza – to drench, to permeate with a spiritual numen and mystery. In the tale the washing is the first task. It means to make taut again that which has become slackened from the wearing. The clothes are like us, worn and worn until our ideas and values are slackened by the passing of time. the renewal, the reviving, takes place in the water, in the re-discovering of what we really hold to be true, what we really hold sacred’
– Clarrissa Pinkola Estes. Women Who Run With the Wolves. Nosing out the facts: The Retrieval of Intuition as Initiation
To sit by the loch was a ritual of cleansing and purification of the entire being of the psyche. The new black silk cord on which the beads will be strung will bring them into a new order, for the old pattern can no longer be replicated, even if I wanted to. It’s now an impossible task. The meaning behind such happenings often takes time and writing. A sifting out of what you think it might represent and a letting go before the actual meaning appears. Just now it’s the life, death, and rebirth beads much like the life, death, life mothers Estes speaks of. What needs to be carded out and what shall be woven in, what must die and what must live.
It also requires a deep listening, of what images come to mind, and then reappear again, as if demanding your attention.
Meet Mago contibutor Jude Lally